Gold Lion
by Stained Blue
Summary: Outside, inside. This is a moon without a tide. We'll build a fire in your eyes. We'll build a fire when the color's getting brighter. Cold desire, makes a moon without a tide.


Title: Gold Lion  
Pairing: Alucard/Alexander (like always)

Disclaim: Still really don't own; just playing with the characters.

A/N: I love Anderson; therefore I must tear him down and make him human. The POV changes should be fairly easy to spot, but be looking for them.

Internally, he growled. _Stupid Maxwell and his idiotic notions of a holy war, sending me to this God-forsaken place—_his ponderings were cut short as the Emir stroked his head lightly. "Come now pet," came the smooth accent of that dark-skinned devil, "don't act so peevish." His brilliant green eyes narrowed at the gaudily clad man before him, with silk draping off narrow shoulders and that damnable silver ribbon wrapped loosely about his wrist. Alexander bared his fangs, a show of sharp teeth and bright gums from behind black lips. The Emir was undaunted and ran his long, bejeweled fingers through the varnished gold mane surrounding Alexander's broad face, unheeding of the low growl rumbling threatening inside the confines of the thick chest.

By now, they were both all too aware of the confines of the curse.

With a heavy chuff of displeasure, he settled his large, maned head between large tawny paws. His mind wandered back over the happenstance that had brought him to his current situation. The Emir's fingers continued to tease through the tangles in his mane, before pulling at an ear. Alexander shook his head, his lips peeling away from his teeth in a snarl that just made the Emir chuckle.

Neither doubted that if not for the curse, the Paladin-turned-lion would have ripped that man's throat out already.

Those narrow fingers snatched at the broad silver collar, inlaid with curling designs and precious stones, and forcefully dragged the lion to its feet only to pull the feline closer. Alexander's lips curled again, but he was helpless to do anything as his body was limp in the Emir's hands. That smoky, smooth voice slithered into his ear, digging in and taking up residence. Those words, that held his freedom, meant nothing to him. Of all the languages he had chosen to learn, Arabic was not one of them. But he felt the tell-tale feel of magic itching and burning its way along his form as he returned to himself.

His body didn't obey his commands to lash out, to hurt, and instead hung limply from the Emir's hands as the thick silver collar writhed and constricted about his neck to fit snuggly. "Ye damn heathen!" The Emir chuckled, his lips twisting into a smile that was stretched thin across white teeth in a deeply tanned face. "Come now pet," he purred again, tugging Alexander closer despite the priest's futile commands to his body.

That thin mouth crashed hard against his own, the curse whispering through his veins and forcing his body pliant and submissive. A hot tongue, tasting of meat and tea, burned its way into his mouth as the Emir hauled him closer and pulled his near naked body into the other's lap. As the Emir pulled back, he felt hands at the knot on his hip, the only thing keeping the thin silk wrapped about his hips and thighs. "Ge' offa meh," he cried, attempting to tell his body to squirm, twist, attack, anything but take it. But not much had changed in the few weeks of his captivity; the curse still held, and the Emir still did with him what he wished. Alexander tried to force his teeth down on that invasive tongue, but was unable as the curse curled through him, his muscles staying lax.

The knot came undone, and the silk was pulled away in a slight and teasing caress. Alexander squinted his eyes shut tightly as the silk came away, and he heard the Emir's low sound of appreciation. "You are a rather pretty pet," the Emir purred, that slick oiled voice made his insides turn with repulsion. Never had anyone treated him thusly, and the thought made him glare. Warm, rough fingers traced along his skin, pulling over the strong muscles and skimming along definitions. He tried to twist his lips into a snarl, but his lips felt waxen.

One hand held onto the collar, which breathed lightly away from his skin like some living thing, as the other hand stole down his body. Fingertips pulled tenderly through the spattering of dark blond hairs on his chest and stomach before stealing lower and taking a firm grasp of his uninterested cock. However much he loathed it, his body responded to the firm strokes until his member quivered and ached in need. He squinted his eyes shut, determined to be as unwilling a participant as possible. His body shook as his willpower pressed hard against the curse, even as the magic burned through him, forcing submission onto his being.

He barely registered the door breathing open. "My lord, the plane will be touching down within the hour," came the soft voice of the manservant before it disappeared. Alexander panted as the Emir suddenly released his cock and pushed him off his lap like a dirty child. His eyes snapped open and glared at the bejeweled and silk encased man before him. The Emir smiled down at him, a malicious look, and he managed to force a snarl to his lips. A narrow and jewel-encrusted hand fluttered at him, "I've lost disinterest in this form of you, Paladin." Again those softly whispered words brought the rush of magic itching and burning its way along his body, burrowing into his skin and muscles; changing him.

With a baring of teeth, he moved to pad away from the man before him, but the Emir would have none of it. That thin ribbon pulled taunt and dragged him back toward the man who had all the power. He glared reproachfully before padding closer, shaking his great head as if to be rid of some pest. Slowly, he curled his long, muscled frame around the Emir's chair. His sinewy tail flicked in agitation, the dark blond tuff rustling a curtain.

He had nothing but time, and how he hated its slow passing.

Alucard followed his Master in a puddle and river of writhing black shadows, occasionally opening blood red eyes to look around. He had no reason to be suspicious. The Vatican and Millennium organizations had been especially quiet as of late, and there had been no sign of the Judas Priest. Somewhere down in him, perhaps near where his soul used to reside, he felt a tingle of unrest. Iscariot was not one to be overlooked, and he…missed, if that was the right feeling, the bayonet-wielding fanatic. But nonetheless, he had a job to do, even if it was only to protect his Master while on a short visit to Saudi Arabia about some foolishness of a holy war. He couldn't just run off looking for a fight with the regenerator.

_Why does this concern us again_, he pondered in his Master's mind, taking delight at her internal shudder of revulsion. His telepathy had never been a favorite trick of hers, and she took the time to answer him aloud, refusing to drop to his level.

"The Emir, Hassan Nasser, and his Islamic cults have been semi-threatening of a Holy War. Apparently, Iscariot dispatched a member to take care of the problem…" she trailed off as if in thought.

_And_, he prompted her again as his shadowed self pooled and writhed amongst her own shadow. She looked down at him in disdain.

"If Iscariot is getting itself involved, they will more than likely do so without tact. The Protestant Knights want me to make sure no damage is done. No one wants another set of Crusades." She thought for a second before smirking slightly. "Except for maybe you and Anderson."

He laughed soft and sibilant in her mind before she shut him out, cutting off the nonverbal form of communication. With a grin, he took up form beside her, the shadows giving birth to his tall pale form and writhing black hair. Integra shot him a frosty glare before striding forward, following the slight, dark manservant dressed in humble robes. Alucard's long tongue lolled out of his mouth for a brief moment in a wolfish grin before being drawn behind a smirk as he followed his master.

The palace was decadent, covered in lush silk and velvet curtains and tapestries, while thick Persian rugs muffled their footsteps. They didn't speak as they journeyed into the center of the palace, passing shut doors and beautiful paintings. When they came to the center room, the servant cast open the doors and drew out of their presence. He opened eyes in all the shadowed places, checking for lurking visitors that were unwanted as he followed his Master further into the great room.

"Ah, Sir Integral Hellsing," said the dark-skinned man seated in the center of the room, cast upon a large chair. His long black hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and his narrow body was draped in silks of bright gold, orange, and red. But more curious, was the large lion curled around his chair like a common dog. The beast was bigger than any feline he'd ever seen, with a massive blond mane running between the creature's shoulder blades and down the broad expanse of its chest. Bright green eyes acknowledged them before the lion lay its head down on broad paws. The thick silver of its collar stood out brightly from the tawny coat.

Beside him, Integra stopped and he slipped behind her, staring curiously at the strange pair. "Emir Hassan Nasser," she said with cold indifference. He watched the Emir drop his hand to rub at the lion's ears, which caused the lion to shy from the touch, shaking its great head. "I see you've brought your…pet," the Emir said softly, staring Alucard up and down, seemingly taking note of his interest in the huge cat. "Yes, well one can never be too careful when traveling the world," Integra replied before removing a cigar from the inner pocket of her jacket, lighting it, and taking a leisurely pull.

As his Master and the Emir began to talk the politics of the religious world, he warped down into his wolfhound state and padded closer to the giant feline. As he moved towards the raised pedestal, the lion's giant head swung toward him and stared at him with bright green eyes. He took note of the small scar curving out of the thick golden mane. The lion's tail flicked agitatedly behind the great beast as Alucard drew closer. He watched thick, black-grey claws flex out of large, broad paws before retreating. He knew a warning when it was presented and seemingly grinned at the larger beast before drawing closer still.

"Alucard," his Master snapped, pulling him back from his curiosity. He melted into a puddle of shadows and pulled himself back together behind Integra, staring intently at the lion.

The Emir forced a smile, before saying in his oiled voice, "You're more than welcome to spend the night in the palace. I will fly you back to England tomorrow, after our conversation is finished." Integra nodded, seeming somewhat pleased with the way negotiations had gone thus far. The Emir fluttered his hand in their direction, and they were obviously dismissed as the same manservant opened the doors to show them to their rooms.

Once they had been settled, Alucard looked upon his Master with an indifference stare. "The lion seems familiar." Integra glanced his way before continuing to write in her small log. "I think you're just missing Iscariot's priest. Apparently he was the one dispatched, but the Emir assured me that he was sent safely home to the Vatican."

His lips pulled themselves into a tight purse, even as he stared into the silvery-blue eyes of his Master. He could tell she was not completely convinced but unwilling to say so. So with a wry quirk of a smile his body melted back into the shadows and he pulled himself through the lush corridors of the palace. About him, dark-skinned, silent people crept, going about their business as usual.

He slipped under the ornate door that hid the Emir's throne room from the general public's eye. Cautiously, he opened red eyes in the surrounding shadows of the room before flowing about the base of the wall, slipping under another set of ornate doors. His shadowed body slithered along the edge of the room, until coming to rest amid thick, velvet curtains. He watched the Emir stride slowly into the room, the massive cat following him on silent paws.

As the Emir settled in yet another sprawling, ornate throne, he grasped the lion by its thick collar, while muttering in a low tone. Alucard felt his eyebrows rise as the lion glowed, glistened, and then shifted, becoming the long, tawny, and nearly naked body of the Vatican's prize Paladin. Anderson's soft pink lips curled away, showing teeth, but otherwise he made no movement. He watched as the Emir brought the priest to kneel above him, a strong leg on either side of the thin, silk-clad man.

His gaze skimmed down the priest's body, appreciating the Paladin's hard physique and the way the dark green silk wrapped about his waist and silver collar accented his color. One would have to admit that the bayonet-wielding fanatic was a lovely specimen.

Alexander shuddered, feeling the silk garments tease at the tender skin of his inner thighs. The Emir leered up at him, those teeth gleaming brilliantly white in his dark face. Narrow fingers wormed their way under the warm silver of the collar, the metal breathing away from his neck. The Emir pulled him down, searing his hot mouth against Alexander's. That devilish tongue slipped in between his lips, gliding against his own.

The Emir's free hand ghosted down his chest, stroking and scratching lightly as it went. Finally, the Emir pulled back, but his lips roamed along Alexander's neck. Teeth nipped lightly at the skin as the questing fingers trailed lower. Once again, those digits landed on the silk that twined about more sensitive parts.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing as the Emir's long fingers slowly undid the knot. The silk pulled along his skin in a teasing, ghosted touch against the tender skin. The Emir chuckled, causing Alexander to shut his eyes further. Shame burned lightly on his skin, heating his face and ears. "Come now pet, open your eyes. Let me see that pretty gaze." The magic burned through him sharply, forcing his eyes to open slowly in a flutter of long eyelashes. The world was blurred, but he didn't need his glasses to see the appraising look the Emir was giving him.

Even though it burned his throat, he growled. The Emir lifted his shaped brows in a look of mock-fear. "Oh dear pet…" and then his nimble fingers undid the knot and the thin, cool silk slithered from around his groin. The Emir rubbed the silk against his cock and balls before dropping the cloth. He felt those soft hands cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss. Instinct told him to pull away, but the curse's magic held him still, pulsing thickly in his veins.

Watching the Emir kissing the bane of his existence wasn't exactly what Alucard had expected to find. It also filled his stomach with an unexpected emotion: anger. Some little voice in the back of his skull sneered, _How dare he touch what's mine_. He barely stopped the growl from escaping his chest.

He watched as one of the Emir's dark hands travelled down the broad, bare expanse of Anderson's chest. Those nimble fingers wrapped around Anderson's uninterested cock, stroking slowly and surely a few times. The blush that had lighted on Anderson's face darkened greatly as his member slowly filled, hardening. He noticed the look of disinterest on the Paladin's strong features, even as his body responded so willingly.

Unbidden, the idea of being the one to touch the priest in this manner stole into his mind. Alucard felt a tingle run along his nerves at the thought.

"Let me hear that pretty voice of yours," the Emir purred, his lips pressed close against Alexander's ear. He felt a shudder run down his spine as the warm, moist breath ghosted along his sensitive skin. The magic burned through him, settling in his throat, as the dark-skinned devil that held him captive stroked him deftly. He felt the moan as it gathered in his chest and tried so hard to keep it trapped, but his lips slipped open just barely, his head falling against the Emir's bony shoulder. The moan rattled free, low and deep.

He could feel his climax curling tightly along the base of his spine, flexing and squeezing like a constrictor. His eyes squeezed shut and he panted softly, feeling the burn of pleasure twine along with the magic's. In the pit of his soul, where not even the curse could touch him, he felt the shame. It burned his cheeks, even as his hips bucked forward in desperation for the Emir's touch, as his chest gave up sullenly sweet moans, as he gasped for breath.

The Emir pressed chapped lips against his neck, working him faster, more surely, with a less gentle touch. The change was too much for him, and he felt the pressure at the base of his spine slip away. A guttural moan broke free of the damp walls of his chest, and he desperately wished to grasp onto something, _any_thing. His body arched forward, pressing tight against the Emir's slight body as he came hard, the orgasm being wrenched from the very pit of his body.

And release was so sweet.

Even though he knew what would soon follow, what always followed, he accepted the shamed pleasure from the orgasm. His body felt lazy, his mind clouded, and his groin sticky. Internally, he grimaced. The Emir's lips moved up to capture his again, tongue pressing incessantly against the seam of his lips before bursting into his mouth. He was too overcome to even try to fight the curse.

Roughly, the Emir pushed him from his throne, stood, and he could dimly see the gloss of his seed against the elaborate silk of the man's clothes. But then those clothes were being shed, slithering and sighing to the floor, and leaving the Emir's body bare. Alexander closed his eyes again, settling back on the floor. He knew the Emir's body too well as it was; the wiry muscles, the coarse body hair, the scent of sweat and oils and spices, the long member that would leave him feeling gutted.

He felt the Emir kneel by his supine form, the whisper of skin against his own, dark umber meeting tawny gold. "On your hands and knees pet." The magic tingled in him, and he didn't have the will to fight it as much as he knew he should. Slowly, eyes still closed, he rolled to his hands and knees. He felt the Emir's soft, dry hands grasp at his hips, angling his body as he wished. A strong push between his shoulder blades dropped him to his elbows, his forehead nearly smacking into the floor.

It was a peculiar feeling he felt, watching the Emir man-handle his Paladin; roughly grasping the blond's neat hips, shoving roughly on a well-muscled back, hands roving light touches over the tawny skin. Anger, disgust, and lust roiled in his stomach and chest. His gaze roamed over the Paladin's bent form again, taking in the strong definition of muscle on his backs and sides, the deep tawny skin, the barely visible ribs, the strong legs spread just enough, and the well-endowed but uninterested member hanging limply between the priest's legs.

Again the unbidden, dark thought of it being _him_ behind the Paladin curled in his mind. He shuddered lightly, feeling his body twitch with interest, the desire to bury his own cock deep inside the unwillingly pliant body stretched before him.

The Emir groped through the silk of his clothes until he found a small bottle. For a second, Alucard was surprised at the tenderness of the action, the production of oil to ease the Paladin's pain. Though, undoubtedly, he had already seen the care the Emir showed the priest. He had to admit, Anderson did have a sort of pull to him, like a creature blessed by God.

Anderson turned his head just barely, cheek pressing into his strong forearm, and he could see the priest's eyes were closed. His sooty lashes lay spread on his strong cheekbones. Alucard watched the slow, steady inhale and exhale that stretched and smoothed the Paladin's broad chest. He could guess that the blond was trying to relax muscles, but then the Emir ran oil slicked hands down the taunt arse of Anderson, leaving glossy streaks on the skin. "Relax," came the soft voice, "it's better if you relax love."

He could see the soft glimmer of whatever it was, spell or curse, as it skated along Anderson's flawed skin. The Paladin gave a soft sigh, and Alucard could see his strong body slump just enough. The Emir ran fingers along the split in Anderson's arse, narrow fingers rubbing and pushing gently at the small opening there. Anderson gave a soft grunt as those fingers worked their way in, his lips making a small grimace as his eyes closed tighter.

The Emir's body shook as his fingers moved barely, his cock hard and dripping milky pre-cum onto the shiny floor. Alucard could only wonder at what kind of strength the other man had to not just pound into Anderson's tight ass. But he seemingly thought it too soon, as those fingers were withdrawn quickly, making the priest gasp lightly. The Emir shifted upward, pressing his hard cock against the barely prepared entrance to the Paladin's body. He swiveled his hips forward in one sharp, easy movement, sinking deep inside the other's body.

A hurt sound escaped Alexander's lips, and Alucard felt anger swell at the Emir for hurting his Paladin.

The rhythm set was harsh, like the Emir was trying to fuck the life from the Paladin. His narrow fingers grappled with Alexander's skin, blunt nails dragging open gouges that closed before blood could really form on the surface. The Emir was panting roughly, moaning and grunting. Alucard noticed that Alexander was curiously quiet, his lips tightly pursued and his eyes closed tightly. Once again, he was reminded that the priest didn't want this situation, but was being forced into it.

While the Emir fucked a willing, pliant body, he was raping the mind, soul, heart of the Paladin.

Sickened by himself, he slunk away. He had watched his one worthy opponent be taken by the Emir, and while the flesh was willing, it was apparent that the mind was not.

He made his way back through the palace, finding their room still lit and his Master still awake. She gave him a curious look as the shadows gave birth to his long, spindly form. He glared at her hard, "The lion is Anderson." Sir Integra's brows furrowed, her lips turning down in a sharp frown. "Are you certain?" Closing his eyes, the image of the Emir bearing down on the paladin's compliant body danced on the backs of his eyelids. His stomach gave an unnerved twist. If he chose, he could share the image with his Master, but knew that Anderson deserved better than that. Better than what had already been dealt him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and stared unflinchingly into those ice blue eyes. "Yes."

His Master slumped on the sofa, puffing on her cigar agitatedly. Finally, she crushed the cherry out on the rich upholstery. "Well this will never do. I may not _like_ Iscariot, or even Maxwell for that matter, but Anderson has proven quite useful. He's saved our asses from the fire before." He nodded, agreeing with his Master. He couldn't imagine life without the weekly run-in with Iscariot's fanatic, without seeing those glinting green eyes or broad manic grin. "We'll have to save him Alucard."

By the look on Integra's face, he could tell there would be no sleep for her that night.

Alexander lifted his head off his paws just barely as the Protestant whore and her damnable dog breathed into the room. He had thought they'd left. Being this close to Alucard unnerved him, the way the vampire looked upon him unnerved him. He could instantly tell something was amiss. Hellsing's stance was more offensive than submissive, and he questioned the slight possibility that they knew.

Those blood red eyes bored into his, and he met the vampire's gaze unflinchingly. Just because the curse refused to let him hurt the dark-skinned devil that held the silver ribbon wrapped about his wrist didn't mean it wouldn't let him tear that damnable smirk off Alucard's face.

He watched as Hellsing slowly drew Joshua, the ghoul-banishing weapon normally wielded by the nosferatu. He wondered if the skinny bitch could even handle the recoil the massive gun discharged. "I believe," came that icy cool voice, layered with superiority, "that the lion is property of Iscariot, Section XIII. And I know a particular Archbishop who will be wanting his kitty back." He growled low in his throat, a mild warning, but Hellsing paid him no mind.

Above him, the Emir chuckled softly. "Sir Hellsing, this is not the best way to smooth over the relations between our religions." The blonde smirked at him, her eyes cold as she chambered a round. "Neither is keeping a Paladin for your own sick amusement." Alucard was moving toward him, and he felt the cold brush of the monster's shadows against his warm frame. Getting to his feet, he backed away, unsure of what to expect from the vampire. _How can I save you if you keep backing away?_ The irritated voice resounded in his head, and he felt his ears flatten tight against his skull.

He bared his teeth, even as Alucard slipped the silver ribbon from the Emir's wrist and began to lead him away. Behind him, he could hear the dark-skinned devil still conversing with Hellsing, taunting her. "You may have him, but you don't know how to fix it." And he could only hope that the curse had a language barrier. Being forced to be compliant and submissive to Alucard would surely be worse than a thousand nights with the Emir.

Alucard turned back to him, touched his face with those cold hands. "You should be thanking me. I saw the way he was using you." Shame burned in his soul, and he wanted to swipe at the monster's leering face. But the ribbon had changed hands, was loosely looped over the vampire's narrow wrist, and he had to recognize a new master.

He waited patiently for his Master just outside the throne room, his hand absentmindedly petting the great beast at his feet. Glancing down, he saw the death glare Alexander was giving him, those brilliant green eyes narrowed and angry. He could hear the soft growl that echoed in that deep chest. _Now, now…is that anyway to thank me?_ With a huff, the Paladin dropped to the polished floor.

Finally Integra left the room, leading the way to the helicopter that would be waiting for them. In seconds, she was on the phone, her stride never breaking, as she contacted Walter, informing him of the situation. He noticed that she chose to leave Maxwell out of the loop, at least for the time being.

Silently, they boarded the helicopter, and he looked down at the lion curled about his feet. Those brilliant eyes were closed, but he could see the continuous swivel of those blunt ears, the agitated swish of the long tail. "What are we going to do with him until we can reverse the curse, Sir?" Integra puffed on her cigar, giving him a look then glancing down at Anderson. "We can't keep you at the manor. Too many questions could be asked, and this is a delicate situation. We don't need to arouse suspicion." She pressed gloved fingertips to her mouth, looking down at the great beast curled about his black boots. "We'll drop you off at the summer home in Scotland. The cottage is isolated enough that you should be safe from prying eyes wondering why you've a pet lion. Walter should have a cure soon…I hope." From the floor, the lion growled, but he couldn't help but smirk.

The helicopter stopped just long enough for him to slink out of the cabin, pulling the paladin-turned-lion after him. The small cottage was exactly as he remembered it from Integra's youth. Pulling the lion after him, he made his way quickly across the neat lawn. Once inside the cottage, he turned to the paladin. "You know," he started aloud, "it'll be really hard to have a conversation with you in this form. I wish you were at least in human form so we could have a little fun." He leered at the great beast, which glared back.

Alexander could, begrudgingly, feel the curse working its way across his body. Squinting his eyes shut, he felt the magic burn through his veins to return him to his natural form. Above him, he heard the monster chuckle. "That's much better." Internally he sighed, _So much for a language barrier_. He glared at the vampire, whose leer had grown in size, showing off those pearly white fangs. "This situation is nae much better." Alucard laughed at him, cocking his head slightly. "Oh come now Judas Priest," and the nosferatu took a step closer, he could feel those cool shadows curling about his bare legs.

"I'll make you want it before I take you," came that dangerous purr in his ear, and with a growl he tried to strike out at the Hellsing pet. The heavy, slow pulse of magic seeped through his veins, forcing his body to remain passive. He glowered at the vampire, but finally had to look away from that damnable leer.

He was painfully aware of his lack of clothing, only the cool silk wrapped around his hips covering him. Alexander wanted to bring his hands to cover himself, but instead, his hands remained at his side, his gaze on the ground. He had been completely right about the situation decreasing once switching from the Emir's hands to the monster's.

He reached out toward the Judas Priest, his fingers lightly touching the warm skin. He could feel Anderson's heartbeat in his fingertips. He felt a stab of guilt somewhere in his chest as his eyes roamed the chiseled chest of the Paladin. Sighing, he pulled back. "Come. We'll see if we can find you some clothes." He felt the nearly naked priest follow behind him on nearly silent feet. Alucard pushed open the first bedroom door and stepped inside to begin rifling through the closet and drawers.

Finally, he found a pair of slacks that he thought might work and a thin undershirt that would fit a lot better than the few button-downs he had found. He tossed the clothes at Anderson, "Get dressed. You're too much of a distraction dressed as you are now."

Slowly Alexander got to his feet and touched the silk around his hips, his blunt fingers touching the knot at his hip. He looked down at the ground as he unknotted the silk and let the cloth slip down his legs and to the ground. He could feel the monster's gaze on him. The shame burned in his soul. Alexander slowly pulled on the slacks; the feeling of the fabric was weird after so long of not wearing pants. He laced the buttons of his pants, keeping the fabric on his hips.

He reached for the shirt on the bed, the fabric soft against his fingers. He slipped his hands into the shirt and felt the stretchiness of if before slowly pulling the shirt over his head. The shirt stretched thin over his chest was soft, and felt more like chiffon than cotton. Fully dressed, he finally lifted his head and made eye contact with Alucard.

He couldn't deny that he had paid full attention to every flex of muscle as Anderson had gotten dressed. The shirt was stretched thin across the Judas Priest's broad chest, and the slacks pulled tight against his thighs. Dressed as he was, Anderson looked a little more normal. But then his eyes lighted on the silver collar twined about the priest's strong neck.

Without thinking, he stepped forward, his chest barely brushing the Paladin's. His fingers touched the collar, feeling the warm metal. His fingertips slipped under the collar, feeling the metal give to his touch. His shadows curled around the Paladin's legs. The grimace that curled the soft mouth in front of him was almost too much temptation. Instead, he smiled. "You're still a bit of a distraction, Judas Priest."

For a brief moment, all he thought about was closing the gap between them, but instead he gave Anderson a brief smile and pulled back. He dropped down on the bed, looking the priest up and down once more for good measure. "So…Anderson. Let's talk. Sit down." The priest sat beside him, rigid. "Just relax." Slowly, Anderson's body relaxed, but his eyes stayed on the floor.

"Fine. I'll talk. Just listen to me." He moved his leg over just barely, resting his thigh against Anderson's back. And he began to talk. He leant his head back against the pillow, stared up into the ceiling. "You know…that Emir. He was a terrible person. I still can't believe he used you like that. Or that I watched. Though, rest assured, I wasn't expecting _that_."

He turned his head just barely, looking at the priest's profile. "Though he was right about some things." The Paladin turned his head to regard him. Those green eyes asked the question his tongue did not. He gave the Catholic a bright smile, "You are beautiful." Slowly, he rolled off the bed and moved toward the kitchen. "Go ahead and rest some; it's been a long day."

Closing the door behind him, he rested against the wood for a brief moment before pushing away and into the living room. He dropped down into an overstuffed armchair that was beginning to show slight moth damage. He shut his eyes tightly, but he could still feel Anderson's heat against his skin. He could practically taste the other's blood, rubbing against his taste-buds and exciting him.

He lay down on the bed, his hands laced behind his head. For the first time in a few months, he was all alone. Alexander could still feel the slow, sluggish pulse of the curse in his veins, reaching outward with each beat of his heart. His body ached from the Emir's vicious treatment, but he relaxed into the soft bed. Slowly he stretched until his joints popped heavily. Again he slumped, forcing his muscles to go completely lax.

He tried to force his mind blank, to allow himself to sleep, but was unable.

Instead, he stared up at the ceiling, watching as the sunlight diminished from the room. Outside, he could hear the summer crickets, chirping and rasping in the warm night.

Alexander squinted his eyes shut when he heard the door wheeze open. He was overly aware of Alucard's heavy footfalls as he crossed the floor. The bed dipped as the monster settled his light weight on the edge of the mattress. "Judas Priest." He felt that cold hand reach out and touch him, and he flinched. His eyes opened, and looked over at the nosferatu.

"Do you want to bathe? You look a little…dirty." He felt the blush burn along his cheeks. Once a week, the Emir would turn him over to the palace staff and they would scrub him until his skin was flushed a bright pink. But that had been a few days ago, and now, he was soiled. He could still feel the grimy slime of sweat and cum on his skin just under his clothes.

The ribbon glinted as Alucard lifted it up and pulled it taunt, the thin silver wrapped around the vampire's thin hand. Slowly, he slipped off the bed and followed the monster down the hall. He felt the ribbon go slack, and he slowly began to peel off his clothing as Alucard filled the bathtub with steaming water.

He watched as the priest's clothes slowly came off once more, piling on the floor. Alucard let his gaze roam nearly hungrily over the tawny flesh of his opponent-turned-pet. Slowly he ushered the Judas Priest into the steaming water before folding his knees. He settled next to the tub and picked up the flannel, wetting it before rubbing it across the coarse bar of soap.

Alucard slowly ran the cloth along Anderson's skin, rubbing the tawny skin clean easily.

As the smell of sex and dirt and sweat came off the bronzed skin in front of him, he became more aware of the natural scent of the priest. The smell of metal and blood seemed as much a part of Anderson as his skin and bones, mixing with the smell of candle smoke and incense. The man in front of him, he knew, was a pious sinner.

Anderson's heat leeched through the cloth and seemingly burned his fingers and palm, imprinting on his skin. A shudder ran up his spine. Unthinkingly, he leant forward and pressed his forehead against the blunt point of Anderson's shoulder. The Judas Priest's scent curled heavily in his lungs, and just under it he could smell the blood that coursed through the priest's veins. He felt every heartbeat, and it made his mouth ache.

Suddenly he drew back, tightening his self control as he stared at the naked man in front of him, the water barely covering Anderson's hips. "For a man of God, I've never met a bigger temptation," he muttered softly, letting his gaze run along the strong physique in front of him.

Those bright green eyes regarded him silently, the strong jaw tensed.

He ran his fingers gently through Anderson's hair, his fingers curling in the short blond strands. Alucard tugged that soft mouth toward his, slanting his mouth against Anderson's. He could taste the plume of blood that erupted in the seam of their lips where his fangs scraped the soft lips. He felt Anderson's frame tense before the curse seemed to force him to relax, and he tore his lips away. He stared into those bewildered green eyes, watched as Alexander slowly leant away from him.

Jerking to his feet, he strode from the room, focusing inward. He threw open the second bedroom's door and slumped on the bed, burying his face in the pillow.

He stayed seated in the cooling bath water. Alexander could still feel little streams of water dripping down his back. His lips burned where the monster's lips had pressed harshly against his, the gentle tingle of those sharp fangs still prickled at his skin.

Slowly, he eased his hand into the water and retrieved the washcloth from the bottom of the tub. Shifting in the water, listening to it slosh gently about his hips, Alexander relaxed on his knees. Easily, he ran the cloth over his skin, rubbing the cloth in small circles. Cupping his hands, he trickled water over his skin until the water ran free of bubbles.

His hips ached as he stood in the water, his foot knocking the plug from the drain. The drain guzzled the water, and it swirled around his calves then ankles before he stepped out of the tub. He swiped the towel slowly over his face and torso before twining it about his hips.

Near silently, Alexander moved down the hallway.

Alucard's sharp ears picked up on the soft patter of Anderson's bare feet. Turning his head, he noticed the nearly naked form walking down the hall. His gaze roamed along that broad back, scattered with stretched and smoothed scars. Signs of battle and life that somehow managed to seem the Judas Priest all that much more desirable.

Everything in him made him want to stride from the room, to wrap himself about Anderson, and consume the man. He wanted to press his chilly flesh to the burning heat of Alexander's. He wanted to taste the blood pounding in Anderson's veins, feel it trailing through the strong body as he ran his lips down every inch of that muscular frame.

He could feel his body stirring in interest, the stolen blood filling his member. He tried to think of the last time a human had interested him as much as the paladin did. Not even Mia had interested him this much.

His mouth ached, his fangs elongating painfully, as he thought about sinking into that taunt flesh. Flesh that he could mar but not break. That could handle everything he had to offer and perhaps more.

He was more than aware of the tension that continued to mount over the next few weeks. Even though the monster tried to keep it from him, Alexander could tell that there were things were wrong. He watched as the vampire wound about the kitchen, a small black phone pressed to his ear.

He didn't have to hear the softly spoken words to feel the desolation that coiled in his stomach.

They still hadn't figured out his curse yet, let alone a cure.

Alexander sighed softly, leaning his head back against the couch. He stared wearily up at the blurry ceiling. It had taken a bit of time, but he was slowly becoming used to the lack of his glasses, and he had found out that he could see items more clearly by not looking directly at them.

His fingers sought the old magazine that rested on the side table and he began to thumb through the yellowed, crackling pages. The pictures were blurred but he could make out the subjects, if just barely.

From the living room, he heard Alucard throw the phone. He glanced through the doorway to see the monster sulking near the sink, the shadows at his feet writhing angrily. Sighing, he looked back down at the magazine.

He was just glad he no longer spent his time in the form of the huge gold lion.

Alucard lifted his gaze toward the living room, where the Judas Priest was thumbing nonchalantly through some ancient magazine. His gaze seemed to automatically settle on the wide collar about the paladin's neck, and he felt another wave of anger wash through him. Slowly, he forced his body to relax, and the writhing, twisting shadows at his heels settled. He looked down as the inky blackness spread slowly along the kitchen floor. Closing his eyes, he tried to shut out the paladin.

But he could hear the slow, steady beat in that strong chest. The gentle thump seemed to throb against his tongue. His fingers twitched, ached to grasp hold of the man, to crush the paladin to him.

Slowly, he forced an exhalation of stale air out of his lungs in a sigh.

Swallowing, he opened his eyes and stared at Alexander. The slacks were tight against his bent thighs, the shirt was worn slightly and he could see the tawny flesh through the thin shirt.

His mouth ached.

How many days had he spent tracing the lines of Anderson's frame with his mind? How many times had he just barely stayed his hands from tearing the flimsy cloth from that tantalizing skin? How many days had his patience been running thin as the paladin unknowingly tempted him?

The uncertainty of how much longer the curse would allow the Judas Priest to follow through with his desires was waning. The time to act was now.

Alexander watched as Alucard settled into one of the sturdy kitchen chairs, the monster patted his bent knees. "Come sit here." He blinked slowly, feeling the curse burn through him just like the shame as he moved slowly across the kitchen floor until carefully straddling the vampire's legs, his knees on either side of the chair.

He stared down into those dark red eyes, which seemed to sear his soul. "Kiss me." He stared at the nosferatu as the magic itched its way through his veins, trickled heavily into his skin. Slowly, he leant down and brushed his lips against Alucard's. A blush ranged hard across his cheeks and desire uncoiled in his gut.

Slowly, he drew back, drawing in a deep breath. The vampire's lips split in a toothy leer, "See? Was that so bad?" He looked down, felt his head shake sullenly a no response. He felt Alucard's fingers twine into his shirt, pulling him closer with a gentle tug.

Finally finding the courage to look up into those brilliant eyes, he felt the urge to shy away. The nosferatu looked at him like prey, with a feverish hint in those dark eyes. Alucard's free hand came up and brushed along the place his neck touched the collar, leaving little trembles of chill in the wake of those fingers. His felt the vampire's hand cup the back of his head, those long fingers curling sharply against his skull while forcing his head down.

The kiss left him feeling rattled. He could feel those sharp teeth nipping softly at his bottom lip while that long, sharp tongue pressed into his mouth. His own tongue felt chilled when the almost serpentine-like muscle curled around his own tongue, squeezing and relaxing softly.

He moaned into the kiss. His paladin tasted like mint and tea and life. Alucard pressed closer, letting his shadows come up to slowly wrap around them, cocooning them together. Pulling back, he forced his eyes open and stared up at Alexander. The Judas Priest's face was so…open. All his emotions bared for his hungry eyes. It somehow seemed far more intimate than the kiss just shared between them.

Those green eyes opened slowly in a flurry of blond lashes.

Slowly, Alucard lifted his hand and ran his fingertip along his priest's plump bottom lip, swollen from the kiss. He lifted his fingertip to run along the scar curving up from Alexander's jaw. He smiled slowly, "Touch me."

He could hear Alexander swallow hard before those blunt fingers came up, quivering, to touch his skin. Closing his eyes, he turned himself over to the feel of the Judas Priest's burning heat caressing the chilled skin of his throat, playing gently with the cravat. He relaxed, letting the shadows around his chest forming his shirt slip away.

There was a beat where the hot touch ceased before those capable fingers began to slowly run along his chest again. Slowly, Alexander's hand spread over his chest, his palm pressing against the depressing stillness of his heart.

Alucard swallowed softly and lifted his hand, pressing it gently over Alexander's.

Alexander looked down into those dark red eyes and was surprised to see a touch of humanity there. The nosferatu was just full of surprises. He tried to draw his hand back, but the cold hand covering his wouldn't allow it.

He could feel the lukewarm oppression of the vampire's shadows, wrapped around them tightly. He could feel the obvious desire the monster in front of him felt just under his thigh. The feeling of the hard member made his chest ache. For a moment, Alexander remembered the faux kindness the dark-skinned devil had shown him before using his body for the sin of lust.

"I'm…I'm not going to force this," Alucard whispered throatily. The words drew him back to the present, feeling as those cold fingers traced an intricate pattern over the thin cloth covering his chest. "I want to…but I'm already enough of a monster in your eyes."

This pale-skinned monster was turning out to be less of a devil than a flesh and blood man.

Swallowing down his pride, he nodded and forced his throat to work. "Yes…" and he let Alucard take that to mean whatever the vampire wanted. Later, he would be able to blame it on the curse, but for now…he just needed the ability to give something to someone without it being taken forcefully from him.

For a moment, Alucard was frozen, staring up into those beguiling green eyes. _Yes_ could mean _anything_. He scrutinized Alexander's face, searching for any sign of a trap. Finding none, he pounced. He forced Alexander back on the kitchen table, his form becoming near liquid as it fitted against the hard physique under him.

His lips found Alexander's. The kiss was hard, hungry. His fangs brushed the swollen bottom lip as his tongue pressed into the warm cavern of Alexander's mouth. He felt the soft moan filter up from the depth of his paladin's chest. His fingers gently touched the warm metal of the collar before slipping behind to cup Alexander's head, keeping their lips seared together.

His hips rocked slowly against the Judas Priest's, and he felt delight at the feeling of Alexander's own arousal pressing against his through their trousers. Tearing his lips away from the paladin's, he ran his lips along the collar, feeling the warm metal tingle against his mouth. He slipped his hands from the short blond hair and ran his fingers along the broad chest in front of his. Easily, he tore the flimsy fabric open, allowing his wandering mouth to worship the burning flesh under his lips.

Methodically, Alucard traced every line of Alexander's chest and stomach with his lips, tongue, and teeth. His long fingers curled around the paladin's sharp hips, but still Alexander squirmed under his hungry touch. He felt the Judas Priest's blunt fingertips press hard into his back, curling sharply against his shoulder blades.

While he feasted on the soft moans and gentle squirms that sulked from Alexander, his shadows deftly stripped the paladin of the slacks. Slowly, he ran his cold hands up and down on the paladin's warm thighs, feeling the soft hair tickle his palms. He ran his tongue along the sharp cut of the Judas Priest's hip before lifting his mouth from that warm skin to swallow down Alexander's throbbing, twitching cock.

He could feel those blunt fingertips bury in his hair, the sharp sting as the nails tugged gently at his scalp. Alucard moaned softly around his mouthful, feeling Alexander's whole body tremble with a moan. He swallowed around the throbbing erection until he felt the tip brush the back of his neck, his nose pressing firmly in the sweet smelling nest of curls around Alexander's prick.

Alucard's shadows slid gently up his thighs, spreading the strong legs wider. He was vaguely aware of the feeling of Alexander's skin as his shadows trailed over the hot skin. Squeezing at the tight ass gently, the shadows probed at the small entrance there, stretching and probing until Alexander was squirming tightly between his mouth and shadows.

The feeling of the vampire's mouth on his member was maddening. It was cold almost to the point of pain, but his long tongue was hot where it wrapped around his erection and squeezed. He dug his hands into that silky hair, clinging to it in the midst of the onslaught of pleasure. Alexander struggled as he felt Alucard's shadows probe gently at his entrance with more care than the Emir had ever shown.

Sharp fangs scoring the sides of his prick made his groan, his hips instinctually pressing upward.

The nosferatu pulled away from him entirely, leaving him feeling strangely cold. Alexander panted sharply, trying to calm down, and finally he opened his eyes and looked up meekly at Alucard. The vampire leered back at him. "You are the personification of sin right now." He blushed as the vampire winked at him, running those cool palms over his burning skin. The implication of what he had given the monster before him was sharp in his chest, but he relaxed as Alucard hoisted his thighs up to rest on his narrow hips.

There was a moment, where those blood red eyes which had darkened to black stared down at him, boring into his soul with the stare of an incubus. The cool air in the room curled around his still wet erection, and his body shuddered softly. Alucard moved closer to him, their hips touching softly. The nosferatu stared down at him, rubbing his thumb gently along the cut of Alexander's hip. "Are you certain, Judas Priest?" He didn't trust himself to speak, so instead he just nodded.

Then he felt the tip of Alucard's prick brushing gently against his entrance, the slight chill of the hard skin made him squint his eyes shut. His fingers curled around the edge of the table, expecting the sharp burst of pain. Instead, there was a steady but not unbearable pressure that pressed against him until his body finally relaxed and gave in. He gasped, feeling Alucard press fully against him, his erection pressing deep inside his body. Those thin lips pressed hard against his, swallowing his soft moan. That wicked tongue pressed inside his mouth, curling tightly around his tongue.

And then the monster moved.

The heat of his body mixed with the chill of Alucard's to form some type of perfection. With each movement, his heart lurched and his erection throbbed harder. Pre-cum dribbled out of the slit, sliding down like glistening pearls along his shaft. Impossibly, Alucard bent to curl his tongue along his shaft, making him gasp. Alucard pulled back and pressed his stomach tight against his shaft, creating a sweaty slick nest where his erection rocked and rubbed, driving him closer to madness. It combined with the steady, punctuating thrusts.

Alexander groaned loudly, pressing back into that touch. Alucard's face burrowed in the crook of his neck, and he felt those sharp fangs scrape gently along his skin. He groaned, his fingers once against curling hard in those silky strands.

The feeling of those thrusts increased, growing sharper, pushing into him harder and harder. White hot sparks of passion bloomed against the insides of his eyelids. His back bowed, his head banging gently against the lip of the table as he groaned, his cock pulsing hard as cum coated the slick skin where his and the vampire's bodies touched.

As he came down from his high, he was even more aware of the feeling of Alucard's member bearing into him, prolonging his pleasure to the point of near pain until finally the other stilled. Those fangs crushed hard against his collarbone, popping the skin as the creature above him crushed as close as was possible, coating his skin like sin.

A few heartbeats later, Alucard slipped free of his body, making him moan softly. The thin monster gathered him in his arms, a parody of a bride on her wedding night. On stumbling, shuffling feet, the nosferatu carried him into the nearest bedroom, dropped him on the bed, and crawled onto the covers after him. The last thing he really remembered was the long, inhuman body of the vampire curling tightly around him.

He woke up just as the sun was setting. Stretching languidly, Alucard rolled onto his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms. Letting his eyes roam along the tawny skin of the man beside him, he smiled. Alucard was certain that had Alexander lived in ancient times, he would have been viewed as a god.

Slowly, he ran his fingers along the chiseled chest, tugging gently at the smattering of dark blond hair there. Alexander stretched, and Alucard let his gaze roam hungrily down that delightful frame. His mouth ached to roam that honeyed skin again. The Judas Priest rolled away from him, burrowing his face in his pillow.

His gaze caught on the tawny skin of Alexander's neck. He jerked up on his elbow, scooting closer to the paladin. He could feel the heat radiating from his bedmate. Slowly, he ran his fingertips along the unburdened skin of Alexander's neck.

The collar was gone.

Dipping his head, he pressed a tender kiss against the skin, still bearing a faint mark from the collar.

The phone on the side table chirped, and he rolled over to grab it. Pressing the green button, he held it to his ear. "Yeah." Walter's voice filtered through, "I figured out the curse." Alucard let his lips curl upward in a smile, his gaze still focused on the golden skin of Alexander's neck. "It's a humility curse, Alucard. You're going to have to convince Anderson to do something he finds to be beneath him willingly, or the curse will never be lifted." He chuckled softly, "Alright Walter. Will do. Thanks." Hanging up the phone, he dropped it over the edge of the bed.

Easily, he crawled onto that broad back, his hips fitting against Alexander's delightful ass. His lips and fingertips moved upward slowly. Under him, Alexander purred loudly and stretched. He could feel the strong muscles flexing, exciting him. "What're ye doin' ye heathen?" The tone the paladin said it in was satisfied and nearly playful. Alucard scraped his teeth along the uncovered skin of Alexander's neck.

"The collar's gone."

Under him, Alexander rolled over. A spark of lust ran down his spine at the feeling of the paladin's naked form against his. A broad grin split the Judas Priest's soft, still swollen lips. Alexander rolled over on top of him, his long hot body covering Alucard's cold frame.

Laughing softly as Alexander's mouth smothered along his neck, Alucard used his shadows to tug the sheets up over them before surrendering his body to his priest.


End file.
